


The Wrong Side of Hollywood

by Thee_Maxwell



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, It's not explicit though, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28568232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thee_Maxwell/pseuds/Thee_Maxwell
Summary: Typical employees of the Hollywood Ghost Club were given two days off, but, since his “little stunt,” as Caleb liked to call it, Willie was only given an hour of free reign per day, with the expectation that he was to perform every night, without any real breaks.
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Caleb Covington/Willie
Comments: 20
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Major trigger warning for rape. Nothing is explicitly described, but it is there, so please be safe.
> 
> Title is a mix of Other Side of Hollywood, and a lyric from Miracle, by Macklemore.
> 
> Hi, so, I don't ever write things like this, and I'm kind of scared to post it, since the last time I did, it didn't end well. I've had some idea with this brewing for a while, but this is how it ended up coming out. It is stated in the story, but I made Willie 18, because it felt. Less gross. 
> 
> I'm so sorry, Willie, I promise I love you.

Willie inhaled, breath shaky, and not providing him with the calm he needed. He’s staring at the outside of the Orpheum, the last place he’d seen Alex. A bitter, tight feeling rolled through his chest, as if he was a rag, being rung out of any joy he may have had left. 

Despite being the afternoon, the sign shone bright, almost laughing at him, saying that this is what took Alex from him, even if he knew that wasn’t the case.

Willie hadn’t been able to make it to Julie and the Phantom’s performance here, too busy on lockdown from Caleb. He’d heard talk from some of the lifers at the Club, something about it being a neat gimmick, but nothing as spectacular as what Caleb was able to produce. 

‘At least they did it,’ he thought. They were able to cross over, to escape whatever was set to happen if they were zapped out of existence. No one knew what happened after, but Willie had seen the full process occur. Whoever the victim was slowly felt more and more agony before eventually losing the will to fight and fading. Some were able to extend the length of time they had, but no one ever won.

Willie rubbed his arm, just above his elbow. It was most common for Caleb to stamp patrons on their wrists since it was easily accessible, but he could do it wherever he wanted. When Willie was stamped, Caleb had grabbed his arm in what seemed like a warm, welcoming gesture while showing off his Club. 

It burned now, a reminder of what he had done, not only to himself, but also to the boys. 

His original job for Caleb was as a recruiter. “You’re a charismatic, eager young man,” he recalls Caleb flattering him. “The people will like you.” And at first, it was thrilling. He hadn’t been dead for long when Caleb found him, maybe a couple of months (he honestly wasn’t sure, time was a fickle thing when one is a ghost), and he still wasn’t used to not being seen by people. So when Caleb was able to give him the ability to be seen, even if for just a few hours at a time? It was incredible. 

In hindsight, he probably sounded like a raving lunatic, babbling on the streets to anyone who would listen. But sometimes, he’d come across someone who’d just lost a loved one, someone who’d give anything to see them again. 

Those were always the easiest to get.

He’d also run into other ghosts, who might also know others who can join, but who might join themselves. Soon enough, he’d been promoted to part-time audience fill, part-time performer, typically as a dancer. He’d still go out sometimes, but usually, that was just on his days off, and more so accidental. 

That was how he met Alex. Yeah, it was an accident, but it was the best accident he could have asked for. 

And now that was gone, forever. 

He supposes he should move on, try to let it go. This was death, where people passed over, and sure, he’d met some pretty cool ghosts that were no longer ghosts, but Alex was different. He looked at Willie like Willie meant something, that he was actually important at a personal level, rather than some trophy to be won and displayed. Caleb had never treated him like that, and the other Club ghosts certainly wouldn’t.

Willie had no sense of time, but he knew an hour had passed since his departure from the Club when pressure began wracking itself against his head. Caleb was calling him back. Typical employees of the Hollywood Ghost Club were given two days off, allowed to do whatever they dreamed of doing, as well as housing in the hotel section of the building. They didn’t have to live there, but it was highly encouraged.

But, since his “little stunt,” as Caleb liked to call it, Willie was only given an hour of free reign per day, with the expectation that he was to perform every night, without any real breaks. When he wasn’t on stage or in the audience, he was stuck in his room, with no one to talk to and nothing to do. 

Willie poofed back to the Club, expecting to be redirected to his room, but found himself in Caleb’s office instead. It was really more of his own personal green room, filled with images from his heyday, before he died, as well as new ones, of his set in the HGC, some of his best known performances, and the outfit that he wore on his death day, blood and all. 

He looked around, figuring out his surroundings before Caleb’s voice pierced through the silence, ringing in his ears. “William, how nice of you to join me today. I take it your break was enjoyable?” 

Willie swallowed, feeling like there were rocks in his throat. “Yeah, it was, um” he began, voice cracking. “It was fine.” His vision was blurry, but he tried to focus on Caleb’s face. It was impossible to read aside from the almost playful anger in his eyes.

Caleb nodded, then clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s good.” Willie just nodded. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here. You see,” Caleb walked behind Willie, grabbing his shoulders. It would look comforting to anyone outside, but Willie knew he was just holding him there. A shiver went through his body, and he looked at the ground, trying to ignore the body behind him. “I’ve decided to bring back one of our highest-earning acts.”

His hands squeezed Willie’s shoulders, massaging his upper back with his thumbs. “It’s been so long since it’s been just you and me on the stage, William.” Caleb pulled Willie’s hair, windblown and tangled, but so soft, off to the side, away from his face. Willie flinched, trying to pull away, but Caleb’s remaining grip on his shoulder was too strong.

“Caleb-”

“Tsk, tsk, William, you don’t get to use my name right now. You lost that privilege.” He was petting Willie’s hair, pulling out the knots. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but, when you stopped performing it before, you said we wouldn’t be continuing it. Ever.” 

Caleb hummed in response, letting go of Willie’s hair after what felt like an eternity. He shifted his weight away from Willie, who let out a sigh of short-lived relief. “I did, however, that was decades ago. And, since losing what would have been the biggest boom for my Club, I need something else to show off.”

Willie’s heart dropped, dread filling every molecule of his being. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this, and, fuck, this was his least favorite performance. It was a late-night show, always following one of Caleb’s movie nights. The movie never mattered, although the more popular, the better, since they drew large crowds. 

“The movie starts in four hours,” Caleb whispered in Willie’s ear. “And after is your spotlight. There are clothes set out for you in your room. I expect you to wear them.” 

Caleb poofed out, leaving Willie to stew in his loathing and fear. He quickly went as well, finding himself in the room he anticipated being in before. True to his word, Caleb had left an outfit for Willie to put on. 

It included a loose, low-cut scoop neck, pink and purple tie-dye crop top, which would likely fall just under his chest, as well as what looked like a crew neck top made of fishnets, but with netting only where it could be seen under the top, to accentuate his arms and neck, but not to overshadow a dark green garter belt. They attached to thin fishnet leggings, with lace detailing at the top, to be worn under the same color green panties, made of the softest lace Caleb could summon. To anyone watching from the crowd, it would merely look like some real fine threaded silk, soft, but unspectacular otherwise. However, up close, it was made of tiny Hollywood Ghost Club logos. 

There was also a razor laid next to the pile of clothing, which Willie took to mean that Caleb wanted him like he always did: smooth. 

Willie felt the fabric of the panties, which he could tell left nothing to the imagination. They were sheer all around, the back open, meaning Caleb would want him to shave his ass too. Probably his whole body, which sent a shift through Willie’s body. He hasn’t been forced to in decades. Sometimes he’d shave his legs, mostly because the smoothe feeling was nice, but it was always his choice.

Despite not needing it, Willie decided on showering to ease himself into the task. It didn’t do anything for him, not physically, at least, but the warmth of the water was soothing. 

He didn’t know how long it took him, nor did he really want to know, but eventually, he stepped out of the shower, softer than the silk and lace he soon adorned. Everything aside from the crop top felt foreign, but even the shirt wasn’t right, not with it being placed over the lace sleeves. He kept his necklace and rings, since they weren’t in the way of any of the required clothing, as well as slid on his beat-up vans, as Caleb hadn’t provided any shoes to wear. 

There was a mirror in Willie’s room, which he used to check his appearance. In all honesty, the outfit Caleb picked out looked really lovely. As long as Willie has known the magician, he’s had a knack for appearances, and it showed here. The shirt was a mix of pale pink and a warm purple, which, when paired with the green of the garter belt and panties, gave the appearance of a flower.

However, the shirt also made his heartache a little. While it didn’t look like something Alex would wear, the colors reminded him of the boy. He looked himself over, wishing he could wear this in a different setting, in a different time, with a different person.

Willie began to brush out his hair, making sure to get all the tangles and knots out that he could, before pulling it up into a half ponytail. He braided a section on the left side of his head, as tight as he could, for two main reasons. 

The first was that it was generally a nice look, and when he had done it in the past, he had gotten several compliments every time.

The second being that Caleb was known to grab his hair but also didn’t like to mess up the image that was being shown. Willie had learned that he didn’t tend to be as rough when he decorated himself with anything he could. 

There was a knock on his door before it opened, one of the other members staring Willie down. He didn’t need to say anything; Willie understood what he was doing there. So he poofed away, showing up in the stage right wing, next to Caleb. Willie wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hide what he could.

Caleb looked him over, tutting when he saw the shoes Willie had picked out, but smiled to himself regardless. “I hope you find the clothing I picked for you to be suitable. You look delightful, I’m sure the audience will eat you up.”

A shiver fell through Willie’s spine as he clutched his body further. He looked to the ground, refusing to give Caleb the eye contact he knows will be forced out of him later. 

“I hope you remember, William,” Caleb scolded, “you agreed to this.”

Yeah, he wants to say. Yeah, he did agree to this. When he was still a new ghost, too trusting, too young. He was, is, technically, barely eighteen, he wants to yell, and that this is very fucking creepy, even by Caleb’s standards. 

But he doesn’t, knowing it’ll just fall onto deaf ears, and would likely cause nothing but extra pain and embarrassment in the long run. So Willie opts to continue to look down, face red in anger, holding himself. He began rubbing that spot where he was branded with the Club stamp, the contract he signed all those years ago. 

He let out a sign, pretending it was Alex holding him, telling Willie that he was safe.

The crowd began applauding, and Caleb began strutting away, introducing the crowd to the “next phase” of the night’s entertainment. 

Willie was poofed onto the stage by Caleb. He was facing the man, on his knees, but his eyes were still at the ground. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, hearing Caleb speaking to the audience above him but zoning anything that he said out. He was perfectly content to continue pretending like none of this was happening, but Caleb reached his index finger under Willie’s chin, pushing it up to look at him. 

“You’d better behave.” He whispered harshly.

Willie straightened his back, muscle memory from years of “performing” prior. He heard Caleb unzip his pants, causing Willie to let out an involuntary whimper, which, to the viewer, would seem like excitement, but both men were aware that it was only fear. A hand grabbed the lower section of his hair, where it wasn’t pulled up, and brought his face to Caleb’s body.

Willie, the entire time, maintained a mantra that this wasn’t forever, that this was likely a one-time occurrence, to punish him for helping the band. But that couldn’t distract him entirely from the heat he was feeling, from the scent of Caleb’s cologne washing over him, from the hundreds of eyes staring at him.

Caleb was, for all intents and purposes, being nice tonight. He was rough, messing Willie’s hair, shoving himself into Willie’s throat with little regard for the skater, but he had also done worse. Willie suspected he was a bit out of practice. Not that he was complaining. 

Time wasn’t real in the Hollywood Ghost Club, so Willie had no idea how long it was before he felt Caleb hold his head in place, finishing into his mouth, but not moving until he felt Willie swallow it all. As Willie was let go, his body doubled over in a fit of coughs. He gasped for air that he wasn’t getting, felt like he was dying again. It had been too long; he had forgotten the sensation. 

Caleb began talking again, peddling the worst part of the night: the auction. Willie’s worth varied, always different according to who was in the audience. He didn’t ever pay much attention to it, mostly just tried to forget what was going to happen, but Caleb had never been upset with how much the winner would offer up for him.

Sometimes people were friendly, would ask permission before taking him. Sometimes, a rare buyer would just ask to cuddle. But usually, they were rough; lifers with no regard for his well being, especially since he was already dead. 

He had come to expect it.

It happened within a blink. One second he was on stage, and the next, he was in the suite that all the buyers were given. It was large, filled with anything anyone could possibly want to use, with a California king bed in the center, surrounded by other various pieces of furniture. It was always partially lit, the walls a deep red to provide ambiance or something.

Willie sat down on the end of the bed, taking a second to calm himself down. He’d done this before. He can do it again.

He was joined shortly by what looked to be a 30-something male, decent looking, but plain. The man looked disoriented by being poofed into the room (which was standard procedure, even for lifers, because the only door was for show, in case someone was into that). 

He turned to Willie, who just looked at him and nodded once, waiting for him to take the lead. The man walked to him, joining him on the edge of the bed, and reached a hand out to cup Willie’s jaw. 

Willie flinched initially, but leaned into it immediately afterward, relishing in how gentle this man was being. The man leaned in to kiss him, and, wow, Willie can’t remember the last time he was kissed or really given any kind of foreplay.

This was retained through the night, but the night just kept going. He was so incredibly gentle with Willie, and he thanked whoever was watching over him for that, but this man had more stamina than Willie had ever seen. Willie was allowed release once, at the very start, in the time they spent together, which, from the best he could guess, was about 4 hours. Was told it was to get the edge off so that no accidents may happen.

It was agony. His body was sore in ways he didn’t know he could feel since dying, he had cried his eyes dry, and his voice had gone hoarse from all of the begging this man felt was necessary. 

He was physically kind, but Willie didn’t know if he had ever been more tired after a session. 

\---

Willie woke up in his room, still in the clothes from the night before. He assumed he had passed out, and Caleb had simply poofed him back there. 

He sat up, attempting to tug the crop-top down, to no avail, before eventually pulling a blanket over his body and standing up. He walked over to the desk, checking himself in the mirror. His hair still held the braid but was roughed up otherwise. He had quickly fading bruises on his neck and jaw, but the fishnet shirt had prevented them from being placed further. The rest of his body was currently covered by the blanket, which was just fine with Willie.

On the desk laid a note. In shiny purple lettering read, “Well done, William. You may take the day off. C. Covington”

Willie, for the first time since the afternoon before, felt something warm spread through him. He let out a sigh, because even though Caleb was definitely going to continue watching him, he was allowed out of the Club for a reasonable amount of time.

He nearly jumped into the shower, cold and harsh to bring him to reality. He scrubbed what he could still feel from the night before. The hands on his stomach and thighs, Caleb’s grip in his hair, he even considered trying to wash his mouth out before deciding that wouldn’t be the best idea. 

He dressed in some jean shorts that had been worn soft, a plain t-shirt, and the fluffy cream jacket that allowed him to feel hidden. He looked at the shoes from the night before but opted against them. It was too soon. He grabbed a pair of high-tops instead, with some tie-dye socks to finish the look.

By the time he was dressed, he was nearly buzzing with energy, so much that he poofed away without figuring out what his destination would be.

It turned out to be the outside of the garage where Alex and his band practiced. 

Willie was immediately crushed, heart sinking, hands shaking slightly. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky, but he could hear the cheerful voice of the girl (Julie, he had to remind himself) laughing.

He questioned if he should even look inside the small window. Something about it felt like an invasion of privacy, especially since she must be still grieving the loss of her bandmates.

Right?

But curiosity got the best of Willie, and as he leaned against the heavy door, he was greeted with a room that could only be described as warm. The decorations livened up the place in a way the Club could only wish to replicate.

Julie was sitting at a grand piano, clearly looking towards someone. Willie followed her gaze, to be met with three boys staring amongst themselves. One of them must have said something funny, because another one full-body laughed, to the point where he was nearly rolling on the ground.

It was at that moment that Willie was given a perfect view of the blond who was supposed to be gone.

Willie fell through the door, disrupting any conversation that may have been happening. He didn’t look up, was about to poof out when he heard Alex almost whisper, “Willie?”

He swore that he could feel the tension in the room. None of the boys made any move towards or away from him, clearly waiting for him to move first. Willie pushed himself into a seated position with a shaking breath, no longer in the physical door. He shook his head, not wanting to look up and see that this was fake, that it was just another punishment from Caleb.

“Why aren’t you guys dead?” He finally asked after a pregnant pause.

“Well, we are kinda dead.”

“Dude, not now.”

“It’s true!” 

Julie stifled a laugh from her spot at the piano, accidentally hitting a few keys in the process. She cleared her throat, then answered, “after the performance, we were able to get the stamps off of them. We don’t really know how.”

Willie looked up at her before finally turning to see the pile that was Luke, Reggie, and Alex. Alex looked both terrified and like he was about to jump Willie, which he nearly did with a nod from Luke.

He rushed over to Willie, getting on his knees to be at Willie’s level, before pulling him into a hug. One of his hands was open against Willie’s back, while the other was wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Willie hooked both of his arms around Alex’s waist, afraid that he was going to leave again.

His head was tucked into Alex’s neck, breathing in the scent of the drummer, trying to comprehend that this was real.

And if he cried a little bit and got tear stains all over Alex’s jacket? Well, he hoped Alex wasn’t going to say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I hope you enjoyed, or at least felt something?
> 
> Thank you for reading if you made it all of the way through. I totally understand if you didn't.
> 
> Uh, update weeks after this was posted,,,, I fixed like, a sentence, and I'm writing another chapter. So, yay? It'll hopefully be up by the time the weekend is over lol, but we'll see


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo the chapter two that a couple of people asked for. To be fair, though, it's probably sadder than what y'all expected. I didn't even anticipate it being this sad, lol. Enjoy.

Somehow, despite them both being made of air, Willie felt warm when Alex hugged him. It’s possibly just because it was a hug, long-awaited, and as close as they could get to each other. Though it could have been a number of other things, like Willie’s breath on his neck, or his stupid fluffy jacket that made Alex want to hold him closer.

Willie was most definitely crying, some tears getting on his hoodie, others spilling onto Alex’s neck, but he didn’t mind. It was just a way to get his feelings out, and Alex would be damned if he judged him for that.

He let Willie pull away first, not wanting to make it seem like he was uninterested. Honestly, he’d never say it, but he could easily stay here forever. Willie smelled of sun-warmed pavement and bar soap, with something else that Alex couldn’t quite place. That, combined with how tight he held onto Alex, made him feel at home.

When he did, Alex tried not to stare, but _fuck_ , he was beautiful even when he cried. Yeah, his face was puffy and red, and maybe Alex was just a sappy piece of shit, but he felt his heart melt when he saw that.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Willie wiped his eyes as he spoke, his jacket more smearing than soaking up his tears. “Didn’t mean to get...like this.” He gestured around his face. Alex knew what he was getting at. 

He could hear Luke and Reggie muttering in the back, but ignored them. They poofed out shortly after, trying to give the other two their space.

Julie, the angel that she is, awkwardly cleared her throat before motioning to the door, which they were blocking. She looked down but away from them until Alex said, “Oh, sorry, I’ll just, uh-” before grabbing Willie’s hand to pull him away. He followed willingly, clinging to Alex’s side.

She opened the door but stood quietly for a moment.

“Uh, I’m Julie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Willie whispered before clearing his throat. His hand clamped more firm against Alex’s, who squeezed in reassurance. “Can you, ya know?”

“Yeah, I guess, probably because you two are close?” Julie clearly didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she just opened and closed her hands before pointing with her thumb outside. “I’m gonna just. I’m gonna go. Bye!” 

The door slammed harder than she likely intended, but neither of the boys seemed to mind. Alex turned to Willie, then slightly nodded towards the couch. Willie nodded, letting Alex lead the way, never letting his hand go.

When they sat, Willie’s eyes welled again, before dropping. He lost eye contact with Alex, although the blond proceeded to wipe his cheeks with his own sleeves. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting this new wave of emotions rise and fall while also giving Alex a chance to properly look at his friend. His outfit didn’t feel out of the ordinary, but when he looked at his legs, they were shaven, as were (what he could see of) his arms. He had a small, tight braid in his hair, which looked like it hadn’t been put in this morning, and his shoes were different than the ones he usually wore.

Upon closer inspection, he had what looked to be several small, almost not there hickeys on his neck and the underside of his jaw. Alex’s blood (do ghosts even have blood?) ran cold. He almost pulled his hand away on instinct but told himself that Willie needed his support right now, and that definitely wasn’t going to help.

He stopped crying enough to speak. When he did, the first thing out of his mouth was a forced out apology, complete with a voice break. Alex reassured him that it was okay, that he understands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, but when he gets no response more than a blank stare, he asks, “is it Caleb?”

Willie nods, squeezing his eyes shut. His free arm is wrapped around his stomach, pressing into it. Alex rubs his thumb over Willie’s knuckles, his other hand resting lightly on Willie’s knee. 

He must be blatant about looking at his neck, because not long after, Willie brings his hand from his stomach to the spot. He’s playing casual, but obviously trying to pretend they’re not there.

Alex inhales, holding his breath, but eventually finds himself saying, “you know, it’s fine if you, you know, with other people. I mean, it’s not like we were, uh, anything in particular.” 

Willie looks up at him, eyes still wet but now ringing with confusion, and a little bit of humor. He cracks a weak smile, but Alex can feel his heart flutter at just that. 

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” Alex finds his mouth readying a retort without his consent when Willie leans in and places a small peck on his mouth. His brain short circuits, absolutely nothing up there. He’s brought back when Willie laughs.

“Maybe not stupid, maybe you’re just as much of a disaster gay as you seemed when I first met you.”

Alex thinks of all the things he could say in response but somehow settles on, “What is a disaster gay?” which pulls another bubble of laughter out of the skater. Alex’s chest warms at the sound. Okay, maybe he can figure it out if this is how he’s feeling over _laughter_.

He looks Wilie over again, seeing now how his cheeks have reddened, not from crying but from blushing and giggling. Though not as tight as it once was, the braid framed his face in a clearly intentional fashion, which worked, he might add. The stupid fluffy jacket made him look like a cloud, and Alex just wanted to throw his body into it, and rings always did something him, no matter who wore them. 

A thought crossed his mind that maybe he was further gone than he’d thought, but there was no way he’d admit that yet.

“I didn’t mean to spy on you guys.” Willie says. “I honestly didn’t even mean to come here. It kind of just happened.”

Alex nodded. “You know what happened?” Willie shook his head.

“I think, maybe, because Caleb finally let me have free reign for a little bit? He has such a tight hold,” he began rubbing his elbow, still holding onto Alex’s hand. “And he finally let go, just a little bit. I think I just wanted to be with you. I kinda just left and ended up here.”

“I’m glad you did,” Alex whispered before realizing the thought even crossed his mind. Then, more solidly, “I mean it. Didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

“I could say the same for you, Hotdog. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Alex felt himself start whining at the nickname but stopped himself. Not the time. “I am here. And you’re here. You’re _here_. With me.”

It hangs in the air, not quite the reassuring thing that Alex hoped it would be. A silence falls over them, replacing whatever might have been waiting to be said. Alex remains seated upright, but Willie falls into himself. His legs are crossed, torso hunched over, free arm resting over his thighs. Alex briefly wonders how he’s comfortable, what with him wearing jeans and shoes.

He can hear Willie’s breathing, short, stuttery little things, not quite having recovered from his sobbing earlier. He’s in his head, fighting a battle with himself. Alex yearns to be able to help him. His chest sinks, aches, when he realizes that he might not be able to.

His free hand reaches gently towards Willie’s. He nudges their fingers, just to get his attention, but Willie pulls his hand up to run it through his hair. It pauses when he remembers the braid, lingers in one spot for just a little too long, but before Alex can thoroughly question it, Willie’s finished running it through the bottom, tugging out a tangle. Alex’s hand stays on Willie’s knee, thumb rubbing circles, trying to ground him.

Willie sighs, causing Alex to look him in the eyes. 

“I fucking hate myself.”

“Woah, where’s this coming from?”

Willie leans back, looking up at the ceiling. “Everything bad happened because I brought you guys to the club. I introduced you to Caleb. I nearly got you guys killed. I was dumb, and should have known better, because I know what he can do. What he does. And I just let you guys sign up for that. Maybe I deserve what he’s given me,”

Alex freezes for a second, knowing the train that he’s on is a dangerous one. But against his better judgment, he says almost too quietly to hear, “What do you mean?”

There are no more tears, just a blank stare. Willie’s facing Alex, but where he’s looking is a million miles away.

“You know how I mentioned that Caleb has different shows that he puts on?” Alex nods. “Well, he has this one with me. We haven’t done it in years, not until last night. Real money maker for the club, late-night show.” 

Willie rubs his neck, almost like he’s trying to get rid of the hickeys. Alex doesn’t need him to say anything else to know what he means.

“I hate it”

“I’m sorry.” 

Alex placed his hand over the one that was rubbing Willie’s neck, stilling it. He pulled it down, lacing his fingers on the way. Willie initially went to pull his hand away but relented when he realized what was actually happening. 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” Alex made sure to look Willie in the eye. Made sure he was present. “It’s not, and I hate that you’re still stuck there. Does he know you’re here?”

Willie looked like he was thinking, flinching subtly like he had been hit in the head, but he eventually shook his head. “I don’t think so. He can sometimes track where we are, but he hasn’t like. Given me any reminders through the stamp that he’s watching or anything. You’d see if he had.” 

Alex nods, assuming he means something regarding the stamp. “I know this won’t fix things, but I’m sorry. It sucks that you’ve had to go through this, and I’m sorry that I can’t take you out of the club. Julie removed our stamps. Maybe she can help take yours off.”

“It’s never been done before.”

“But now it has. Who says it can’t happen again?”

Willie shakes his head. “I wasn’t given a second chance,” his voice cracks. “The club was the only thing for me; Caleb was the only one who cared. I don’t have someone who can see me, Alex.” 

“I see you.” Alex said. “I may not be a lifer with some crazy powers, and I may not be a ghost who makes promises he doesn’t really keep. But I’m here, and I _see you_ , and I care about you.” 

_I love you_ , he wants to say but doesn’t. It’s too soon, and they’re both too vulnerable. But he can tell that Willie knows that’s what he means. He pulls them into a hug, holding Willie’s head to his shoulder in one hand, his other arm grasping between his shoulders. Willie exhales, releasing the tension he’d held for too long. 

Alex turns his head, still desperately holding onto the other, and places a small kiss on his temple, just above his ear. Willie flushes, and his breathing stutters for just a moment. But shortly after, he leans his head next to Alex’s, nuzzling into place. 

The warmth he felt before came back, starting from where their heads were making contact, running down his whole body. Alex muses that maybe it’s just the jacket being a wearable heater, which somehow transfers to him, but he decides to be sappy and say that it’s all Willie.

When they pull back, he hopes, in the back of his mind, to see the purple Hollywood Ghost Club stamp floating away, like it had for him. But there was nothing aside from the air, suddenly tight around him. 

“How long do you have?” he asks hesitantly. 

“I was given the day off,” Willie responds, though Alex can tell that there’s something heavier to that statement.

“Stay?”

Willie smiles in response, but his face drops, but before Alex can ask what’s wrong, Willie says, “sorry, I’m just tired. Won’t be much fun today.”

Alex leans into the couch, pulling Willie to lay on top of him. They immediately decide to move some pillows, making room for them to properly lay down together. Willie snuggles into Alex’s chest while Alex wraps his arms around his torso. Their legs are a mess, half falling off of the couch, the other half hanging over the armrest, but they won’t feel it when they wake up.

When Alex thinks Willie’s fallen asleep, he whispers into the boy’s hair, “I missed you.” 

Willie slowly looks up at him, adoration in his eyes.

“I missed you, too, Hotdog.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Especially since this is a heavier story, and I know that can make it harder to sit through. Again, anything glaringly shitty, please let me know, I will do my best to fix it, because this kind of shit is sensitive, and I don't want to hurt anyone.
> 
> Hi edit lol, uh, this is the last chapter. I'm not writing more of this story. I'm grateful for the enthusiasm in it, but it's honestly kind of a lot to write, and can bring me down emotionally, because I empathise with these characters a lot. Also, I really don't have much more story to tell with it. Sorry, but I hope you can still enjoy what's here.
> 
> :)


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